Page 8 of Dalla's Royal Guards
Love—that insidious, all-consuming emotion that threatened a person’s ability to think.Nasser hadn’t understood why heshould be fighting his love for others, despite knowing very well that love had nearly destroyed their father when their mother left.
Her betrayal had left a gaping hole in their family, one that their father had worked hard to fill. And yet Nasser had still woven love into his foundation. Allowed it to drive him. To make him vulnerable. To make others vulnerable.
Musad had never known how to explain it to him. The concept was so self-evident, how could one possibly explain it ? He could lead only by example.
But the worst part of all was that… Nasser’s love, his certainty, it made Musad wonder, sometimes, if his own inability to form lasting relationships or feel more than a familial bond was… abadthing, even with the example of their mother’s desertion and later death to teach him better.
Helena Stockman-Al-Rashid hadn’t looked back when she packed her bag with the precious jewels of Narva and slipped out without telling her husband or three children that she was running away with a playboy tourist she had met.
Cianna, of course, was an innocent child, and their loyalty to her demanded her rescue, but Nasser’s love for her was a threat to this mission. It was a weakness that Musad could do nothing about right now. Nothing except worry. He didn’t like the plan of leaving Nasser’s side. He didn’t like the plan of having Nasser be the one to meet Cianna. But he saw that it made sense. Cianna’s trust in Nasser may be instrumental in the mission’s success. Children could be unfathomably unreasonable.
Just like Nasser, really.
The faint echo of footsteps on stone warned him that his brother had finally arrived. Nasser was muttering to himself. Musad grinned and shook his head.
“What’s so funny?” Nasser asked.
“You. Either my hearing is getting better or your feet are getting heavier. It sounded like a herd of elephants approaching,” he teased.
“How would you know? The only elephants you have ever seen were in a zoo,” Nasser retorted.
“Not true. I rode several while I was in India and Indonesia. What were you muttering on about? You looked like you had just been to the dentist.”
Nasser snorted, and Musad smirked. The dentist was his brother’s one and only Achilles heel that he knew of—besides the obvious. It was a good thing Nasser had never had a cavity in his life. He would probably faint at the sound of a dentist drill.
“Be warned. Father is sending us off,” Nasser declared.
“Ah, ‘the battles of old’ lecture again?” he chuckled.
“Worse. I think he spent the night in the library,” Nasser replied.
The ‘library’ was another name for Narva’s hidden treasure vault. Their father was a firm believer that in every mission, they must carry an artifact that had been passed down from one pirate to the next.
The last time Musad had gone on a mission with the United Nations, his father had given him a set of pearls that he could have used as a rope to propel from a helicopter. They could stretch impossibly far with impossible strength, allowing thedevice to condense small enough to wrap a few times around his neck if he hung it low on his torso under his shirt.
But as incredible as that was, they had still seemed silly, and he hadn’t wanted to remind his father what some of those long pearl necklaces had been used for—or where! He had discreetly hidden the fortune in his room before he departed.
“I see you have all your equipment in order,” he teased when Nasser placed his black duffle bag next to the one Musad was packing and he noticed a small unicorn head hanging out of it. The white plushie had a rainbow-colored mane made of yarn.
Nasser brushed his palm over the unicorn’s soft mane. His brother’s tender touch reminded Musad of the last time they had seen their niece.
“Don’t forget my unicorn, Uncle Nassy!”she had insisted, all toothy smile and wild curls.
His jaw tightened when he remembered Nasser’s fond response. “I won’t forget, little one.”
Nasser must have been remembering the same moment because he looked up at him with a grim expression.
“I promised Cianna I would give her a unicorn,” Nasser murmured.
“I thought she had outgrown the unicorn and wanted a longbow,” he said.
“She wants both. She said she could ride the unicorn and carry the bow at the same time. Mario was telling her about the mythical Warrior of the Sands and how she saved both the kings of Kashir and Narva… all on the same day,” he dryly replied.
“Nasser, Musad.”
They turned in unison when they heard their father call them. Hari descended the steps, his presence exuding all the qualities that made him the King of the Pirates. Out of the corner of his eye, Musad saw Donovan straighten to attention and execute a stiff, formal bow. His father acknowledged the man with a clenched fist to his chest.
“I warned you,” Nasser muttered in a barely audible voice.
